Dimensions
by Glassslipper
Summary: Angel stops by Sunnydale but Dawn isn't really ready for visitors


Title: Dimensions Author: Glassslipper Rating: PG Disclaimer: The characters in this story are owned by Joss Whedon; I own nothing. Post-Gift Dawn/Angel Angel stops by Sunnydale, but Dawn isn't really up for visitors  
  
"Will you be okay, sweetie? I'll be back in a few hours. And I'll bring home some candy for you. Or popcorn? Do you want popcorn?" Willow chattered nervously at Dawn as she and Tara pulled on their coats.  
  
Dawn struggled to answer her. Willow was so earnest, trying so hard to make everything all right for Dawn. Not that anything could ever be all right again, but that didn't stop Willow from trying. "Candy would be nice." Dawn stood up and waved her hand in the direction of the street. "Go on. You don't want to miss the previews."  
  
"Thanks, Dawnie." Willow gave Dawn a quick hug and stepped outside. "You're sure.?"  
  
"I'm sure. You two go."  
  
Dawn closed the door firmly behind Willow and Tara, and turned the deadbolt. Lot of good it would do her. She didn't care much what came in, it wouldn't change anything. It had been more than a month since Buffy died, sacrificing herself to save the world - and, incidentally, her annoying little sister. Dawn sometimes imagined Buffy explaining the situation to people - demons? - wherever she had gone. "My little sister wasn't really real, and she whined all the time, but I had to save her because I'm the Slayer. So I did. Now, who can peel me a grape?" Dawn figured that even if Buffy was somewhere unpleasant, she would have charmed everyone by now. They'd all be begging to be her friend, bring her presents, generally meet her every need just like people always did. Why should it matter if she was in the world without shrimp? Knowing Buffy, she was probably in the world where shoes were free.  
  
Thinking about Buffy tossing her hair at her friends in a demon dimension was better than thinking of her in a place of eternal torment, so Dawn spent a lot of time at it. Willow kept asking her what she did in her room all day, but Dawn couldn't tell her she was building a new world for Buffy in her mind. Maybe when she had it all worked out, she'd tell Willow, and Willow could see if she could do a spell to bring Buffy into that world, or at least move her into a better dimension. What good was being a key if you could only be used once? Keys weren't supposed to be disposable. Maybe she could be the key again. She needed a key repair shop. She just had to work it out. It wasn't like she had anything else to do.  
  
Willow and Tara thought that they could help by being all cuddly and friendly with her. But Dawn wasn't used to that kind of treatment. It sure didn't fill the empty Buffy-shaped space in her life. Maybe if Willow tried yelling at her, alternating with apologizing and then running out to do something more important, it would seem familiar.  
  
Tonight was the first time Willow and Tara had gone out by themselves since Buffy died. Dawn didn't really care, although she thought that Willow might be offended if she knew that. It wasn't like she would be alone. Spike had come over early, risking the dash from the sewers, and was upstairs in the shower even now. She could hear the water running, and she knew he'd be in there for a while. He wasn't singing, though. She thought it would be nice if he sang, but she didn't really expect him to. Instead he played punk music really loud. She had complained a few times, then figured he had a right to drown himself, drown in music, whatever it took. She understood.  
  
Willow had asked Spike to come over today, but she didn't appreciate what Spike was doing. What he was doing for her. Because even if he was doing it because he promised Buffy he would, it didn't feel like that. When Spike was with her, sometimes he would get this look on his face, like she was dear to him, like she mattered, and it made her want to cry. So she'd punch him in the arm and they'd go back to watching soaps, or old movies, or anything to keep them from looking at each other and thinking about what they'd lost.  
  
Dawn settled down on the couch, shoving her feet under the throw blanket. She realized without surprise that she had the remote in her hand. Things like that happened a lot lately. She just couldn't seem to keep track of where she was, or what she was doing. It didn't seem important. Nor was there much point in turning on the T.V., at least not until Spike came downstairs. He'd just change the channel anyway. No point in getting interested in anything.  
  
Dawn heard the knocking on the door, and decided to go see who it was. They must have been at it for a while, because they were starting to sound impatient. She stood next to the door and listened. She didn't hear anything except the knocking, punctuated now and again with an exasperated sigh. Dawn thought about looking through the peephole, then decided it would spoil the surprise. She turned the deadbolt, and opened the door.  
  
Angel, caught in mid-sigh, turned to look at Dawn. "Oh. Dawn. Hi." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I wanted to talk to Willow. Is she here?"  
  
Dawn studied the vampire. She had to keep reminding herself that generally, people around here thought Angel was okay. He had a soul, it hadn't come loose in a while, so they didn't stake him. Or so the story went. She didn't have much of a feel for him. Just what everyone told her about him and Buffy.  
  
"Uh, Dawn? Are you okay?"  
  
Dawn noticed Angel's worried brow. She thought he looked concerned. Really, he looked kind of cute that way. Maybe he had looked at Buffy that way, when he loved her. Before he abandoned her to fight evil on her own. Before he left her to die.  
  
"Dawn, can I come in? I need to talk to Willow." Angel peered around, trying to catch Dawn's eye. She noticed him doing this, and tilted her head back and forth. He tilted his head, too. This was also cute, she thought.  
  
Dawn dropped the remote on her toe. "Ouch, damn it!" Now she had lost her train of thought.  
  
"What?" Angel just looked confused.  
  
"Oh fine, come on in," Dawn relented. She could look alive for a little while, entertain Willow's guest. Hey, that was funny - look alive. Her guest wasn't alive, why should she be?  
  
Angel stepped into the house and looked up the stairs. Dawn slid around him and sat back down on the couch. "Willow's not home. You can wait for her if you want. She should be back soon." Dawn really didn't know when Willow would be back, but it sounded better that way. Like she was paying attention.  
  
Angel looked at Dawn with what she thought was curiousity. Bet he's never seen a key before. At least, not when he knew it was a key.  
  
"I don't glow anymore. At least, not unless I'm sweaty."  
  
"Glow?" Again with the knotted brow.  
  
"Never mind." Dawn wondered how long he would stand at the foot of the stairs. "Can you get the remote for me? It's on the floor by your foot."  
  
"Uh, sure." Angel retrieved the remote, placing it carefully on the coffee table in front of Dawn. "Were you watching T.V.?"  
  
"No." Dawn let the silence stretch out, and stifled a giggle. This was kind of fun. He was so completely clueless. Hadn't he ever talked to a teenager before? Or was he like this all the time?  
  
"Look, Dawn, I'm sorry to barge in on you like this. You really don't seem okay. Do you want me to call someone?" Angel seemed to be getting impatient with the game. Dawn realized she was tired of it, too.  
  
"How would you like me to seem?" She shot him one of her deadliest looks. "Buffy's not here, Willow's not here, why are you here anyway?" Dawn grimaced as she heard her voice rise; that damn whine.  
  
Angel, apparently not noticing her get-away-from-me voice, sat down next to Dawn. "Saying that I'm sorry for your loss won't make any difference, I know that. But I am. You know how much Buffy meant to me." He paused, and then said what everyone always said, "I'm sure she's in a, uh, a better place now."  
  
"Yeah, right. A better place, if you ignore the torture and unending pain." Did Angel think she was just a stupid kid? His face seemed to go blank when she said this, though, and she felt a little bad. She went on, despite herself. "Sometimes I imagine she is in a happy place. Where she has friends, and she goes shopping, and she doesn't have to slay anymore," Dawn said softly. She wondered if Angel had looked different when Buffy was dating him. Tonight he mostly looked tired.  
  
Angel nodded. He relaxed, leaning back against the pillow. "Have we ever talked? I mean, do you have any monk-memories of me?"  
  
Dawn snorted. "Monk-memories. I don't think so. I saw you a few times from my window. But it's not like Buffy had you over for dinner or anything."  
  
"No, she didn't, did she." Angel paused, a strange look on his face. Then he stood up and reached into his jacket pocket.  
  
"What's that?" Dawn asked.  
  
"Willow asked me if I had anything of Buffy's. I told her I didn't. But then I found this." Angel handed the narrow object to her.  
  
"Lip gloss? What does Willow need this for?" Dawn took off the cap and peered inside. It was just a regular sparkly pink, nothing special about it. Had Angel kept it because it made him think of Buffy? Or did he just find it under the couch?  
  
"I don't know. But don't use it - don't touch it!" Angel snatched the lip gloss back from Dawn. "She might need it to still have, you know, bits of Buffy on it."  
  
"Eeew. That's gross."  
  
"Fine. But leave it alone," Angel said sternly.  
  
"Fine." Dawn crossed her arms over her chest.  
  
"Fine." Angel did the same, then looked at Dawn's crossed arms and uncrossed his own. "I'll leave this for Willow," he said, placing the lip gloss on the coffee table. "You promise you'll give it to her, and you won't change it?"  
  
"I promise," Dawn said, pouting. So what if Angel cared more about Buffy's discarded cosmetics than her little sister? But if Angel had really loved Buffy, how could he have left her? It occurred to Dawn that the same question could apply to Buffy, but she wasn't going to fall for that. Buffy left because she loved her, not the other way around. And maybe it was that way for Angel, too.  
  
Angel crossed the room in a few steps, and paused by the door.  
  
"Angel? Do you think that Buffy, well, that Buffy loved you?"  
  
Angel froze, and then turned slowly towards Dawn. He fixed his dark eyes on her, and then replied softly, "Yes, I think she did."  
  
"How could you tell?"  
  
"We had something special, Dawn. We could feel it." Angel shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking decidedly uncomfortable.  
  
"What did it feel like?" she persisted.  
  
"God, Dawn, I can't tell you this. I can't describe it. It felt wonderful, and unbelievable. And sometimes it hurt inside, it was so strong. And we knew." he trailed off.  
  
"You knew what?"  
  
"We knew it was love." Angel's eyes left Dawn's and focused somewhere near his shoes.  
  
Dawn walked up to Angel and placed her hand gently on his arm. She waited for him to look up at her, and stared into his eyes, willing him to see her. Quickly, then, she stood on her toes and kissed him, pressing her lips firmly against his. She thought for the briefest moment that he was kissing her back, but then he jumped away. "Dawn!" Angel exclaimed. "What are you doing?"  
  
"It's no big. Just wanted to see if I could feel it." Dawn wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Didn't, though."  
  
"Feel what?"  
  
"What Buffy felt when she kissed you."  
  
"Dawn,"Angel's voice was softer now. "It doesn't work that way."  
  
"I know." She did know, but she had just wanted it to work, even just a little. She thought Angel probably understood, because he didn't look mad. More like a kindly, broad-shouldered uncle.  
  
"I really think I should call Willow," Angel pulled out his cell phone and started pressing buttons.  
  
"Don't bother. I told you she'll be home soon."  
  
"You're sure?"  
  
Dawn nodded. She didn't want him to stay any longer, it wasn't getting her anywhere.  
  
"Call me if there's anything I can do, okay?" Angel shut the door behind him, and Dawn locked the deadbolt once more. She figured she was right all along. It didn't much matter what came in, it wouldn't make any difference. Returning to her place on the couch, she noticed the lip gloss on the table. Buffy bits? Did Angel think they could recreate Buffy from lip pieces? Again, eeeew. She sure didn't want a zombie, she thought with a shudder. Been there, done that.  
  
Dawn returned to her place on the couch. If she didn't waste any more time, she could probably put another scene into the world where shoes were free before Spike came downstairs. Maybe Buffy would be shopping for a new pair of pants, those black leather ones she liked so much. And a white tank top. She'd pick out some black strappy sandals, entirely inappropriate for patrol. Dawn picked up the lip gloss from the coffee table and absently rubbed it over her lips. Willow didn't need this one. Buffy could buy her another after she picked out her new shoes. 


End file.
